


Of Pressing Matters

by wayward_s



Series: Seijoh Week 2020! [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Birthmarks, Day 2: Sleepovers, Flash Fiction, Fluff, Gen, Humour, M/M, Matsukawa Issei just admit you love Hanamaki Takahiro, Nudity, Pining, Seijoh Week 2020, Sleepovers, Third Person POV, Touching, Weird Habits but they arent that weird, but feelings, but like its really minor and not even nudity, just boys being boys, the sleepover is a minor framing device for the bullshit i decided to write, this is lowkey a crack fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:33:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26204989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wayward_s/pseuds/wayward_s
Summary: Hanamaki Takahiro is an enigma wrapped in a mystery wrapped in a conundrum.And while that might make him sound interesting, it really means he’sfucking weird.ButGod, does Issei like him anyway.
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro & Iwaizumi Hajime & Matsukawa Issei & Oikawa Tooru, Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei
Series: Seijoh Week 2020! [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1903042
Comments: 6
Kudos: 60
Collections: Seijoh Week 2020





	Of Pressing Matters

**Author's Note:**

> this is the closest i will ever write to crack and i only have some regrets that im posting this. short prose is really hard to do, apparently.

Hanamaki Takahiro is an enigma wrapped in a mystery wrapped in a conundrum.

And while that might make him sound interesting, it really means he’s _fucking_ _weird_.

But  _ God _ , does Issei like him anyway.

It’s the little things, really, just a few quirks that most people would raise an eyebrow at that Issei finds endearing.

(Everything about that lanky, candy-haired asshole was endearing. But he’d never admit that aloud.)

The way Makki measured time using music; the way he had to tuck, untuck, and then  _ retuck _ his dress shirt every time he got changed after practice; how he carried both a packet of tissues and a handkerchief for no reason whatsoever; or the fact he would take the pickles out of a burger and eat them last since he  _ enjoyed _ them.

Hanamaki had strange habits.

But none were more curious that his desire to poke at his friend’s birthmarks.

Which, if Issei was honest, was one of the  _ weirder _ habits that Makki had and openly admitted to.

It started with little things, innocuous moments that Issei brushed off as part of Makki’s other strange quirks. 

At lunch while Makki reclined on the ground and stared at the sky, he’d press against the freckle on Issei’s wrist, fiddling with the latter’s fingers and knuckles in an almost absent minded way. Other times, Makki would flick at the dark spot that peeked out between his collarbones, just below his Adam’s apple. 

The former, endearing. The latter, kind of annoying but Makki was cute so he’d be easily forgiven.

Things started to click into place during their second year, after Issei barely caught on to the way Makki stared (read:  _ gawked _ ) at Iwaizumi’s chest. Had it stopped at the staring, Issei would’ve thought nothing of it.

But then he caught the way Makki tenderly patted Iwaizumi’s left pectoral before leaving the club room to get started on warm ups. 

The spiky-haired teen turned back to Issei, mouth opened ever so slightly while his eyebrows were pinched into that all too familiar furrow of his. Before Issei could say anything, he found his gaze trailing down the length of the spiker’s neck and to the spot Makki had touched.

There laid a splotchy line, curving from the centre of his sternum, over the plan of his pec and down the underside of the defined muscle. 

A birthmark.

(“S’that normal for him?” Iwaizumi asked after finally finding his voice, jerking a thumb in the direction their pink-haired friend had left in.

Issei shrugged, giving a half-hearted “Dunno” before he quickly trailed out to the gymnasium.)

What really sealed the deal was Oikawa’s unfortunate indoctrination to Makki’s habit. 

He suffered the most, all things considered. Where Iwaizumi got quick pats, and Issei got little prods, Oikawa received firm slaps square between the shoulder blades.

A tragic spot for a birthmark  _ and  _ for a sunburn. 

And while Oikawa whined and Makki apologised profusely at the time, it didn’t deter the latter from continuing what eventually bloomed into a pattern. 

And, at some point, the absurdity shifted into ambivalence.

(Desensitization was a hell of a process.)

Despite their routine (and the acceptance of said routine) they don’t get a reason until their third year. Not until Yahaba finally got more than two arm lengths away from Makki’s wandering hand, pressing his right shoulder up against the cabinets.

And as abrasive and snappy Yahaba’s question sounds, Makki remained almost impassive as he formed his answer.

“I dunno.”

Watari laughed at him.

“There’s that urban legend about birthmarks - that a birthmark is a sign of how you died in your past life. Makes you wonder what bullshit Past You got into before you kicked the bucket.”

Issei nodded. It was a very  _ Makki  _ answer. He tended to sit on the same side of the supernatural with Oikawa (with a preference for ghosts rather than aliens, which Oikawa is  _ infuriated  _ by-)

“And it’s always a good excuse to touch Iwaizumi’s chest.”

“None of you fuckers even  _ try _ .” Iwaizumi growled, ignoring the way the entirety of the team simultaneously turned to stare at their vice captain as he quickly left the club room.

(Oikawa follows, hurrying at his best friend’s heels as he complains about how “unfair” it was for “Makki Makki to touch Iwa-chan without getting punched-”.

Kyoutani is next, head down and brow furrowed, and it almost makes Issei laugh at how desperate the kid is.)

Which brings Issei to the present, where he and the others are lounging at Iwaizumi’s place the weekend before their exams. 

It’s late into the Sunday evening of their studying session, and exams start bright and early on the Monday morning. The four of them are in varying states of disheveled, having gone through the wringer of Iwaizumi’s spartan tutoring about biology and Oikawa’s lecture on calculus. And though they’re used to staying in each other’s company, there’s a tension in the air that can only be attributed to Yahaba’s question a little over a fortnight ago. 

A shame, really. Because Issei’s own curiosity is forcing all his attention away from the content he should be learning if he doesn’t want to take remedial classes in the summer break.

“Oi, do you have a birthmark?”

It leaves his mouth before he can stop it.

And Issei  _ knows _ they’ve reached a point of no return. 

Iwaizumi and Oikawa pause, pens stopping in the air as they both turn to face the spiker sitting in between them.

Makki doesn’t look up. But the sudden tension in his shoulders is obvious. 

“No.”

Issei blinks.

“You sure, Makki-Makki~”

Makki nods. 

He’s still looking down.

And it’s Iwaizumi who moves first, wrapping both arms underneath Makki’s and pulling his back against his chest. The tanned teen’s arms tighten, and there’s a flash of determination on his face as he keeps his hold.

“Check him.”

Oikawa chokes on his own spit.

“You’re insane.” Issei replies.

“He’s lying. Check him.”

“Iwa-chan-”

“This is extreme-” Makki tries to interject.

“Shut it, you know where ours are, you have to have one-”

“But you don’t have to  _ force _ the guy to strip-”

“This is exactly why girls don’t like you, No Tact Iwa-chan-”

“I’ll talk! I’ll talk!”

They freeze.

“Well?”

Makki heaves, skin flushing a similar colour to his hair.

“S’on my butt.”

The silence weighs down a little heavier on all their shoulders as the three friends stare into the embarrassed demeanour of their wing spiker. 

“No it’s not.” Iwaizumi shakes his head. 

“It is.”

_ “Bullshit.” _

“It is!”

“You’re lying.”

“Why would I be  _ lying  _ about something on my  _ ass _ ?!”

“I mean, birthmarks can be anywhere on the body.” Mattsun interjects, shrugging his shoulders. “It’d explain why we’d nev-”

“Prove it.”

Oikawa laughs, flopping onto his back and splaying his arms out on either side of his body.

Issei shakes his head, leaning away from the table as Oikawa’s legs sprawl out on top of his lap. Makki, though still bright red in the face, angles his head to look at the shorter male pressed behind him. “If you wanted me out of my pants that badly then you just have to be nice about it, Iwa-cha-”

“You have been touching my tit for two years, I  _ deserve _ this.”

“ _ No _ ~ My poor virgin eyes~ Spare me from your lewd behaviour~” Oikawa wails, voice dripping in sarcasm, rolling onto his side to face them, both hands plastered flat on his face

“How low on your butt?” Issei asks, one hand moving to pinch at the setter’s calf. “Just for our Poor Virgin's Sake.”

Makki frowns. “Midway down.”

The brunet’s fingers separate into a V on both hands, revealing the mirth in his warm brown eyes and the suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows. 

“Yeah no, not taking it off-”

“We’ve been changing in front of each other for three years now, just show us your ass.”

Makki looks to Issei, and though there’s a silent plea for help, Issei can’t but be intrigued. 

“You’ve been touching his chest for two years. S’only fair.”

Makki runs his tongue over his top row of teeth, inhaling sharply before grumbling out a reluctant “Fine.” through clenched teeth. 

Iwaizumi releases his hold on the spiker and shifts back, letting Makki turn and stand up on his knees before he unties the drawstring of his sweatpants. It’s unceremonious, With one swift tug, the bottoms come down and reveal a small mark that marrs the pale skin of the spiker’s behind.

Issei breathes out an airy laugh. “That’s a birthmark on your ass.”

“Yeah.” Makki grumbles. “Makes you wonder what Past Me did.”

Iwaizumi snorts. “That’s a literal pain in the ass.”

Makki’s arm comes out from where it holds the side of his sweats, clocking Iwaizumi right in the chin. 

Oikawa coos, removing his hands from his face to point directly at the spot

“That’s so cute Makki-Makki~ It’s a heart shape!”

Issei blinks and tilts his head to the side.

He doesn’t stop the wheeze from leaving his throat. “Holy  _ shit _ , it’s a  _ heart on your ass _ -”

“Lemme-”

And then Oikawa’s pulling himself forward, one arm extended and aimed towards the flesh, but not before Iwaizumi can kick his leg out at the setter’s forearm. 

“Don’t make this weird, Shittykawa-”

Makkis head whips around, eyes wild. “It’s  _ already _ weird! _ You made me pull down my pants _ -”

“ _ COMPENSATION _ -”

“Makki your butt-!”

“Move your hand-!”

Issei just sits, and chuckles. He props his chin in the palm of his hand, elbow planted firmly into the low table they once sat around, watching the flurry of limbs flail on the floor in front of him. He can’t help the fond smile from spreading on his face. 

A birthmark on his  _ ass _ , of all things.

‘Makki really is a  _ weird _ one.’

**Author's Note:**

> ~~birthmarks in weird places gang, where are yall at~~
> 
> hnnng be ready for more matsuhana this week i lov themb, your honour.
> 
> Come say hi to me on twitter [here](https://twitter.com/waywards_)


End file.
